


indestructible

by theheartfalls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, warnings for abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheartfalls/pseuds/theheartfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is kind of broken, breaking every day, and maybe Niall doesn't always say exactly what he means. That's okay, though, because they work. They really do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	indestructible

**Author's Note:**

> This is not beta'd, written spur of the moment, and I don't really know where it come from. All I can do is hope you all enjoy it!

The ceiling fan moved slowly in a counterclockwise rotation and Zayn found his eyes lazily following the motion. His fingers slid and toyed with the sheets underneath his body in a mindless way, the action subconscious as he tried to lose himself. He wanted to slip out of his own mind, out of his own body. To become something or someone else for a while. 

The throb of his pulse behind the bruise on his chest was an aching reminder that he couldn’t. Every beat of his heart pushing blood through his body and against the damaged skin awoke him once more to the reality of it all. 

He was here, stuck here, and he wasn’t going anywhere. 

This was what it was. 

*

Family dinner in the Malik home was a quiet affair on these nights. Zayn’s sisters sat with their heads down and their mouths closed. His mother made small talk; the weather, school, work for his father… No one spoke unless spoken to. 

Zayn was never asked a question and he never offered an opinion. He picked at his food like he played with the sheets; a distraction and a way to lose himself. The bruise hurt less now, hours after the incident, but every time he looked toward his father, Zayn was reminded and he ached a little. 

Whether it was true pain or just his sentimentality that he could never seem to shake, he never really knew.

Once he had asked Liam if it was normal for fathers to be overly strict. The look Liam had given him had been answer enough.

That was when Zayn realized that his circumstances were not the norm and he was living on the outside. He was facing a reality that was wholly unique to himself and that was the day he finally understood that things could be different.

That was the day Zayn began to resent his life. 

Yet here he sat, head bowed, food growing cold in front of him. Every single night, keenly aware that he was being glared at from the head of the table, he knew things could change. 

But he knew he was too much of a coward to change them. 

*

The next day at school, he sits more hunched over than usual. He keeps his arms over his chest, like a barrier or a shield. It’s subconscious, a reflex of sorts, but he knows he’s doing it. He knows because Liam looks at him with eyes that can only pity and worry. He can tell he’s acting guarded when Louis doesn’t pat him on the back to greet him. 

They know, but they don’t ask. He doesn’t share. They make small talk, just like his mom, and he hates the lot of them. He hates them because he needs to talk. He needs to tell.

He needs help.

He loves them for respecting what he’s giving off but he wishes they knew better. 

He wants them to know better by now. After all this time… Someone should care enough to worry, right? 

*

Later at football practice, Louis still isn’t really talking and Zayn changes with his back to everyone. The angry purple and blue and black across his chest glares up at him and he doesn’t need to share that with the world. 

He stands to the side, away from the pack, closing himself off further, when they go out for warm ups and their coach calls them to a huddle. He keeps his distance and he prays that no one touches him too roughly. He’s not sure he can handle it. At least not today.

“We have a new teammate. Be gentle with him.” 

The kid is blonde and all cheeky smiles and braces when Zayn looks at him. For a moment, Zayn envies him. He’ll be treated delicately for a while. He’ll be cared for. Looked after. Worried about.

They’re a team and they take care of each other.

At least, they’re supposed to. 

“Welcome to the team, Niall. Show them what you can do.” 

Apparently Niall can do a lot, because within minutes of practice, he’s already gotten past their best defense and wiped the field with half the team in his wake. 

He’s so good, even Louis gives him credit for it. That leaves Zayn feeling a little shocked because Louis never lets anyone think they’re better than him. He’s too fully of himself to consider it, which is probably why he’d never even try and delve into Zayn’s personal life.

He’s too selfish. 

Zayn isn’t sure when he started harboring all this resentment for his ‘friends’, but he goes back to the lockers alone.

*

In the changing room, Zayn finds out what it’s like to have someone care. To have someone see you and see through you.

Because he was supposed to be alone, like always. He takes his time showering so the rest of the team will leave and he can have a few minutes of peace. Solitary hours are few and far between for him, between school and home life. He revels in the quiet and the sanctuary that the locker rooms bring him once every day. 

So when he steps of the showers and starts putting his clothes back on, he’s not ready for the voice that greets him. 

“Pretty nasty mark there. Get that on the field?” 

He can’t help but jump, feeling his heart beating faster in his chest, like it might explode right there. His shirt was barely over his head and there’s only so much exposure he can take. 

And Niall, poor, new Niall, is just standing there with a sad smile on his face. 

Zayn probably looks like a deer caught in headlights and there’s panic seeping into his very bones and if Niall can tell, he doesn’t comment.

But there’s something there. Something in his eyes that Zayn’s never seen before. It’s different from Liam’s wounded puppy gaze or Louis’ knowing but indifferent stare. It’s not the same as his mother’s sadness or his sister’s fear. 

Niall is worried. 

Zayn hasn’t answered his question yet, either. 

Grabbing his bags and fixing his shirt properly, he just nods and pushes past Niall, out of the locker rooms. 

He thought he wanted someone to care, but maybe he was wrong. 

Maybe he just wanted a reminder as to why no one needed to care at all.

*

Days pass, the bruise fades, his mother starts talking to him directly once more, and Niall continues to dominate on the field and look at Zayn with sad eyes.

He starts to expect it, which he knows is dangerous. He shouldn’t want Niall to give him knowing, concerned stares every single evening. He isn’t supposed to like the way Niall defends him on the field when Louis pushes him too hard. He can’t enjoy that Niall seems to care about him.

He does. He’s a charity case, a sad and pathetic kid that Niall seems inclined to look after and he wants to hate it. He wants to despise Niall for thinking he needs any kind of help, but he just doesn’t. 

The bruise is completely gone when they speak next. The lockers are empty once more and Zayn knew he would stay, because he had changed in front of everyone for the first time in days. 

“Alright, mate?” Niall asks, because he won’t be outright about it. Neither of them will. 

Zayn knows what he really wants to hear. 

“Yeah, alright.” he agrees, because if he’s going to let Niall act this way, he can at least answer his questions. 

He didn’t ask for help, but he’s getting it. In a twisted, strange, horrible way, Niall is helping him. He may not even know it, which is the saddest part of it all. 

“Great, great.” Niall remarks simply, nodding and collecting his bags quicker now. “See you around?” 

There’s a hint of something to the question and Zayn likes that. He likes that Niall can put meaning beyond the words he speaks aloud. 

Zayn watches him for a moment before nodding himself. “Yeah. Later.” he agrees, because it’s easy.

It’s easy to let Niall in, and despite himself, he wants to. He wants Niall around.

He shouldn’t, shouldn’t do a lot of things really, but he does.

* 

Maybe Zayn’s in over his head when Niall starts joining their table at lunch. Maybe Louis is giving them strange looks, and Liam is just confused, and maybe Niall sits a little too close. 

He doesn’t try and stop it. He doesn’t even pretend he doesn’t enjoy it anymore. 

The realization that he shouldn’t keep this from himself comes after the second incident since meeting Niall. 

When he’s lying on his floor, eyes on the fan once more, his side aching in a way that has him flinching every few seconds, it hits him. He’s in pain, his life in shambles, and he can’t help but want to talk to Niall. 

His fingers fumble for his phone in his pocket and his hands shake as he dials the number, but he doesn’t have to wait long. It’s almost like Niall was waiting for the call. 

“You up for some illegal drinking?” 

And yes, Zayn is more than up for it. Just as long as Niall’s around, he’d be up for pretty much anything. 

*

Niall is a beautiful escape. His smile, once overdone and a bit manic, becomes like a light for Zayn. His eyes, with their strange shade that Zayn can’t name but really wants to paint on hundreds of canvas, are like a secret gateway. His laugh, too loud and too long, makes Zayn smile. 

They don’t talk about it. They don’t dare, because then it would all break. Nothing would be the same if they called this what it was. 

Instead, they drink. Sometimes they smoke. Mostly they just sit and sometimes Niall talks. Sometimes Zayn talks. Not about them. Not about the bruises. Not about anything important.

That’s okay, Zayn thinks. He’s really okay with that, because this works. This helps. After every new bruise, every let down he feels, there’s Niall.

There’s hope.

There’s the night Niall looked at him, passing the bottle of whiskey his way, and he says, “Maybe after school, after another year, it can be just us.” 

And Zayn can’t help but look at him, confusion etched on his features, he knows. 

And Niall just smiles and goes on. 

“Me and you. It’s our last year. We’ll just leave. Take a roadtrip. Just the two of us.”

It’s what Niall doesn’t say that has Zayn hiding tears. It’s the words he means but doesn’t verbalize. 

_‘We’ll get you out of here. We’ll be together.’_

Zayn just nods, because that’s what Zayn does, and Niall smiles like Zayn just gave him something special. 

If only he knew how much he gave Zayn first.


End file.
